


Penance

by runfive



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: (spoilers all the way through the finale), Gen, Gender-Neutral Runner Five, POV Second Person, Season 3 Spoilers, there's one sentence that could be an implication of noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:55:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17091020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runfive/pseuds/runfive
Summary: You take a deep breath, “You told me to tell you if I figure out how to be saved. I can’t help you, Simon.”---Alternatively: Five and Simon talk about penance and then fight over who gets to die because they're both messed up like that





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> Okay disclaimer so I actually wrote this about a year ago, it was the first thing I had written in a few years and I wasn’t really happy with the way it turned out so I never posted it. But I was going back through my old drafts and I figured like it’s already written might as well just post it?? plus I’m always emo about simon and this arc so here you go. this is also very unedited!! so please excuse any mistakes thanks friends 
> 
> tldr: this piece of writing may be old but my love for simon lauchlan is eternal

You’re fiddling with the headsets in your hand, trying not to look at either Maxine or Simon, who have spent the last few hours determinedly ignoring each other. Maxine is slamming down supplies from your bag a little too hard on the table, and you can’t help but keep glancing at Simon out of the corner of your eye. He’s been different since the train incident. Quieter.

It was his idea to shack up for the night in an abandoned house a few neighborhoods away from Moonchild’s childhood home. You could have stayed in any of the houses on her street, it had already begun to get dark when you left. But Simon insisted on running the extra fifteen minutes to a neighborhood two miles away. Which was perfectly fine with you, you want as much distance between you and anything related to Moonchild as possible. Maybe that was Simon’s intention all along. He seems to read you a lot better these days than he ever has.

“Well then,” Simon says, tossing a flashlight in the air and catching it in his hand, “I’ll take first watch.”

Maxine snorts, barely turning toward him as she continues pulling supplies from the bag, “You think Five and I are going to trust _you_ to watch our backs?”

You wince at the “Five and I”, looking down at the headsets in your hands that you’re supposed to be setting up to charge. The jab stings more than it should considering there’s still a small part of you that agrees with her.

You know Simon well enough to see the split second where his face falls at Maxine’s words before he quickly composes it into the twisted smirk he seems to be wearing more often these days.“What’s the matter doc? Afraid I’m going to run off to Moonchild in the middle of the night?” He puts the flashlight down on the bedside table, maybe a little too hard to match the casual tone he’s putting on. “You think I’m interested in cozying up to a raving lunatic like her?”

“Didn’t seem to matter when it was Van Ark did it?” Maxine replies coolly, turning around to face him.

Simon’s eyes darken, “Didn’t seem to matter to your girlfriend either did it?”

Maxine looks like she’s going to hit him.

“Alright, enough,” you cut them off before Maxine can say anything else, pressing your fingertips to your eyes in an attempt to try and starve off the panic that’s been coming for you since you first stepped foot into Moonchild’s house.

Maxine throws you an outraged look. “Five-”

“Simon go outside and keep first watch.”

He looks up at you in surprise and the two of you lock eyes for a second, a puzzled expression on his face. After a minute, Simon gets up and silently walks out the door. You don’t turn around but you can feel Maxine’s betrayed eyes on your back.

“I cannot....believe you’re defending him.”

“I’m not defending him,” you snap. It’s not fair, you know she’s been through a lot in these past few days too, but you can’t help it. You feel exhausted to the bone. Truth be told moonchild’s tapes had shaken you more than you had been letting on. Hearing her voice again-hearing what she had done to her father-had brought back something you had tried very hard to bury.

You throw the backpack back down on the bed and and turn to leave. Her eyes narrow as you cross the room. “Have you forgotten what’s he’s done? Who’s dead because of him?” She says coolly as you move to open the door.

A coldness runs up your spine at her words and you freeze with your hand on the doorknob. There are a few people she could be talking about but you know exactly who she’s referring to. And bringing Sara into it is a low blow. You turn back around, hands shaking.

Her eyes widen, “Five-”

You can tell she regretted her words the second they left her mouth, but it’s too late. The carefully constructed wall you made to keep yourself together since you stepped into Moonchild’s house has crumbled and the words come tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Don’t.” Your voice shakes despite your best efforts to keep yourself together. “Don’t. I know exactly who Simon is okay? I know what he’s done,” you pause, your breath catching, “and I know who’s dead because of him.”

All the frustration has drained from Maxine’s face, “Five I didn’t mean…I just-he brought up Paula.” She takes a deep breath, “I got upset and I took it out on you, that wasn’t fair of me, I’m sorry.”

You’re sorry too. By all rights you should be siding with her, not Simon. You owe her some sort of explanation.

“I-Simon. He saved me. From Moonchild,” you say suddenly.

Maxine’s eyes widen a bit. You haven’t talked about it with anyone, hell you’ve barely even mentioned Moonchild’s name unless you’ve absolutely had to. But you owe this to Maxine so you will yourself to continue before you get too scared and stop talking.

“You were mind controlled Maxine, you know what it feels like. But you don’t know what it was like to be-,” you pause, unsure if you want to finish that sentence, but you force the rest of the words out through gritted teeth, “to be with her. The things-she made me do.” You don’t just mean killing people either, but you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to talk about everything else Moonchild made you do. When it was just you and her, alone at night.

You can feel the panic rising and you sit down on the bed before you can get too lightheaded. You cross your arms against your chest and avoid Maxine’s eye, the shame finally settling in now that the anger has faded. Maxine walks over to the bed and gently touches a hand to your shoulder, concerned, “Five-”

You cut her off before she can say anything you don’t want to hear, “Look I-I’m not doing this because I owe him, Maxine.” You stop there for a second. Maybe you can’t explain it to her because you don’t even understand. Why _are_ you defending Simon?

You remember Simon glancing down at your trembling hands before slamming the pause button on the tape.

_Guilt, Five. You know what that looks like right?_

Somehow he had known. Of course he knew. You two were the same now, whether you liked it or not.

So maybe that’s it.

“Maybe...maybe I know what it feels like to do something terrible too.”

You can see shock wash over Maxine’s face before she quickly hides it. You knows she knows that you’ve had a rough go of it since you came back from Moonchild. You know Sam had told her about the nightmares because she had quietly handed you a bottle of sleeping pills one morning over breakfast. But she couldn’t have known just how much guilt you’d been carrying.

She’s quiet for a minute. Then, “It wasn’t your fault, Five,” she says softly.

Your throat closes up.

“Look, it doesn’t matter. We have a mission and I know how you feel about Simon, but the three of us have to get along long enough for it to get done. I just wanted you to know that I’m not taking his side over yours.”

Maxine’s quiet so you grab your bag and leave the room.

You mean to go to sleep but somehow without really thinking, you find yourself heading to the front porch. You tentatively push the door open. Simon’s sitting against the wall, his hands resting easily on his knees. He looks up at you as you step outside.

“Well you’re in a state.”

You close the front door quietly enough that Maxine won’t hear, already regretting coming outside.

Simon looks back out at the empty street. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You give him a look.

“I know you don’t, I just thought I’d be gentlemanly and ask.”

You want to grin at him and the thought twists your stomach. Sometimes you can almost pretend that he’s the same Simon as before and you hate it.

His words on the train platform are still ringing in your ears.

“For the record,” you say, your voice suddenly cold, “you haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?”

“Suffered enough.”

Your words shock yourself and your eyes widen. For a second you want to take them back, but you can’t bring yourself to, not when there’s a part of you that still meant it.

He finally looks up at you. You expect him to look wounded or indignant. He doesn’t. He just looks at you with the same smirk he was wearing for Maxine and raises an eyebrow, “Is it you or me we’re talking about here?”

There’s nothing gentle or kind in his voice, it’s not even the playful snark that sometimes reminds you of the old Simon. It’s mean and it’s hostile and you’re vividly reminded that you never knew Simon, not really. And if you thought you at least knew him now, you were sorely mistaken. You feel angry and embarrassed for defending him so passionately five minutes ago and you turn and silently walk back to the door, not wanting him to see that he’s got to you.

“You know Five, the difference between you and me. I had a choice. You didn’t.”

You stop cold with your hand on the door. The aggression has disappeared from his voice, his tone a shade softer. It’s not friendly, not nearly, but it’s closer to the gentleness he had when he was chasing you after he shot you up with the anti mind control drug. You drop your hand from the doorknob and look at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what he’s playing at.

“I know you think it’s your fault, Five. It’s not. But that’s my point, it doesn’t matter does it?”

Your heart is pounding. You can’t have this conversation again, especially not with him. “Simon-”

“Doesn’t matter who loaded the gun, you pulled the trigger right? Doesn’t matter whether you meant to or not, people are dead.” He’s still not looking at you, his eyes staring straight out to the street. “Like I said, it’ll always feel like there’s a monster inside you.”

His last words hit you painfully in the chest. After so many people telling you that it wasn’t your fault, Simon’s words are strangely comforting. You wonder if that was his intention from the start.

You turn around to leave but you can’t find it in you to push the door open. Simon gets it. Simon might be the only one who gets it. And despite his apparent immortality, you’ve had a strange, painful feeling that the two of you have been running out of time, ever since you first found him alive in the woods months ago.

Without really making a decision to do it, you walk back over to where he’s sitting with his back against the wall, and slowly crouch down to his level, sitting on the floor next to him. He finally looks at you, and though his expression is carefully blank, you can see a glimmer of confusion behind his eyes, like he’s not sure what’s made you stay with him, instead of going back to Maxine.

He looks back out to the street and you just sit there, your hands going numb at the cold night air. You’re quiet for a few minutes, thinking about his words. You feel like you’ve been holding yourself together with nothing but safety pins for weeks, and in the course of one night you’re unraveling.

You know why you’re here outside, sitting with Simon. He’d asked you for one thing after he’d rescued you from Moonchild. And you can’t even give him that. You take a deep breath, “You told me to tell you if I figure out how to be saved. I can’t help you, Simon.”

He’s quiet but you can hear from his change in breathing that your words have registered.

“Because the truth is sometimes...sometimes Sam’ll tell me there’s a zombie hoard coming in my direction. And there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to run from it anymore.” The part of you that remembers how happy you felt when you were killing hundreds of people. “I don’t...I don’t think there’s any penance out there for me. Not any that involves me living anyway.”

You risk a glance up at him. He’s looking at you, and you can finally clearly see the old Simon in his face. The one who sang ABBA songs to the kids for hours, even after his voice went hoarse, just because it made them smile. The one who cracked bad jokes with a grin that just barely concealed the pain in his eyes. The one that cared a little too much about people and at the same time not enough at all. Your friend, Simon.

You wish you could go back in time. Maybe you could have saved him.

You put your head down on your knees.

After a few minutes, you hear him shift beside you and suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Five” he says quietly. You don’t know what he’s apologizing for but there’s genuine remorse in his voice.

You lean into his arm and he tightens his grip around you. You don’t know why Simon’s presence comforts you. Others had tried but you had never felt deserving of their comfort. You could accept this from Simon-he was a monster too.

The two of you sit looking up at the stars, the chill of the night air stinging your cheeks.

You both are silent for a long time.

“For the record, Five,” He looks you in the eye and for a second, it’s like looking at a mirror of your own broken expression. “I know I haven’t suffered enough.”

*

You’re ready to die. You’ve been ready since you stepped foot into the Comansys building, maybe even before that.

Sam’s figured out what you’re about to do and you can hear his voice wailing through the headset begging you not to.

It hurts. You love him and you don’t want to leave him, and despite what you told Simon, you’re still terrified of dying. But you’d be lying if you said that a part of you didn’t want this. A part of you is running toward the peace that the ZRD is offering and you don’t know what scares you more, that or dying.

Sam’s panicked voice is growing louder and louder in your ear. “Five please, please Five listen to me.”

Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest and your fingers hurt where they grip the edges of the ZRD. “I’m sorry Sam,” you try to keep your voice steady for his sake, “I have to.” There’s a moment of silence on the headset and you know Sam registers the double meaning of your words. You don’t just mean you have to save everyone from Moonchild. You have to save everyone and you have to pay with your life. Giving your life to save thousands of people from being mind controlled for the thousand that you killed while you were mind controlled. It’s not redemption, not nearly. But it’s as close as you’ll ever get.

“Five _please_ ,” his voice cracks with wild desperation, “You can’t, it’ll burn out your brain!”

“Doesn’t have to be Five’s brain.”

Simon’s voice makes you jump and you double down your grip on Moonchild as she attempts to struggle free in your surprise. In that second, you yank your eyes off of the ZRD and stare directly into Moonchild’s eyes. She holds your gaze and you try desperately to find something but genuine love in her eyes, but you can’t. You feel bile rising in your throat and tear your gaze away from her, looking up at Simon instead. He’s moved in front of you and is looking down to where you’re kneeling on the ground, one hand restraining Moonchild and the other on the ZRD.

“Mine hasn’t ever done anything good for me anyway.”

You know where this is leading and your heart thumps painfully. You wish he had just stayed wherever he’d run off to and not come back. He said he’d always come for you. You won’t let him die for you.

Just then Moonchild thrashes against you, taking advantage of Simon’s distraction, “Get off of me,” she hisses, the order ringing out clearly despite the panic in her voice. Somewhere in the deepest part of your brain, in the part that’s been traumatized and broken by the weeks you spent with her, her order registers and for a split second your grip weakens enough for her to kick you off of her.

“Damn it!”

“Five, get after Moonchild. We can’t let her escape!” Sam says, the relief palpable in his voice at the open excuse for you to run away from the transmitter.

Simon’s got hold of the ZRD that dropped out of your hands when Moonchild broke free and his eyes are locked dead on it. You recognize the expression.

“Simon, don’t.” You feel like all the breath has been knocked out of you.

“It’s penance, isn’t it? I think it is. I think this might actually count.”

You want to scream in frustration.

“What about me?” You can’t help it. “What if I want penance?”

He tears his gaze away from the ZRD and looks up at you, his face twisted into a pained smile. “Yeah but Five, that’s the thing. I figured it out. When you told me that you wanted to die. That’s not your penance.” He takes a shaky breath and looks you dead in the eye, “I wanted to live forever so my redemption is dying. You want to die. Yours is living Five.”

You feel like you’ve been punched.

He can’t. He _can’t._

“Simon-”

“Five you can help people with your life, I know you can. I told you, remember? The world needs you. I can help people by dying. Let me Five.” And what he really means is let me go, but you’ve never known quite how to do that.

“ _Simon, let me save you this time._ ” It’s your last, desperate plea.

He gives you a sad, half smile.

“You are, Five.”

*

Simon Lauchlan dies and gets his penance in ten terrible, painful seconds. Yours will be much longer, much harder, and much more lonely now that he’s gone.

*

You’re sitting outside, alone and half drunk, staring up at the night sky and trying not to listen to the muffled music and cheerful voices coming from the building behind you.

You excused yourself from the party shortly after Janine did, but you haven’t seen her outside. You should probably go find her and make sure she’s okay but you can’t find it in you to get up.

You hear footsteps behind you and turn around, squinting at the light coming from the building after half an hour staring into the dark, “Janine?”

“It’s just me, Five,” Maxine sits down beside you.

“Oh.” You kind of hoped it had been Janine. She’s not the best person to talk emotions with but she at least loved Simon too.

Maxine is quiet for a few minutes and you struggle to find something to fill the silence. “Well...congratulations. On the baby. That’s great.” You try to put some genuine enthusiasm in your voice. You are happy for her and Paula. And Sam. You really are but it’s hard when you feel like your world alone has come crashing down. Again.

Maxine seems to get it anyway. “Thanks, Five.” She gives you a small smile and you take another swig of your drink, hoping you might drown yourself in it.

“So did Sam send you to talk to me?” you ask, fiddling with the bottle in your hand.

“No. But he does worry about you.”

“He shouldn’t,” you mumble.

Maxine is quiet for a few minutes. “Five, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You raise your eyebrows at her.

“About Simon. I know he…” she trails off, “Well I know he meant something to you.”

You feel your throat closing up.

“He didn’t,” you say, and the lie sticks to your tongue as you look away.

Maxine looks at you and her forehead creases. “I just meant, if you ever wanted to talk…about anything.”

You look up at her and there’s genuine concern in her eyes.

What can you say? That losing both Sara and Simon in the span of a little over a year hurt so bad that you can’t stand it? That you should have tried harder to save him? That a part of you still wishes you had died on top of that tower instead of him?

Moonchild was right. You’re both running toward the same place. You’ve made up your mind that you won’t let her be right about this.

“I’ll be fine, Maxine.”

She gives you a tentative smile and pats your shoulder gently before getting up to head back inside. She pauses a few steps away and turns back to you. “Five, you know you’re not alone right?”

Your throat tightens and you give her a small, half smile.

“I know.”

Maybe that was it. Simon had been alone in his guilt and pain. You aren’t.

He was right. You at least have something to live for.


End file.
